


Final Destinations and other non-sexy things that make Jeff Winger hate his life.

by JeromeClarke107



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Abed and Jeff living together, Anal Sex, Angst, Bottom! Jeff Winger, Established Relationship, Fluff, Jeff being manipulative, Jeff is desperate and Abed is stubborn, M/M, Mentioned plane crash, Post-Episode: s05e05 Geothermal Escapism, Smut, Top! Abed Nadir, and Abed having none of it, only a little i promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:55:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27028462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JeromeClarke107/pseuds/JeromeClarke107
Summary: The night after Jeff cancels his flight, the plane he was supposed to be on crashes and kills everyone on board. Abed's seen Final Destination far too many times to let Jeff suffer a similar fate as the characters in the movie.In other words, Abed wants to save Jeff's life and Jeff really just wants to have sex.
Relationships: Abed Nadir/Jeff Winger
Comments: 6
Kudos: 64





	Final Destinations and other non-sexy things that make Jeff Winger hate his life.

**Author's Note:**

> The author offers her sincerest apologies to whoever may stumble upon this disorganized mess of a fic, but to be honest, she hasn't been able to write anything of substance in a little over a month now and was just happy to have something new to post.😂
> 
> Also, spoilers for Final Destination. Kind of.
> 
> Written for prompt on the first Angst/Fluff prompt list by HellsDemonicTrinity on Tumblr.  
> 14\. "You look amazing tonight." 
> 
> Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Edit: Just read back through this and fixed a few typos; no actual changes to the story as a whole.

After a long, miserable two and a half weeks of nothing, Abed reluctantly agrees to have sex with him again.

It technically started when he canceled his flight to the wine festival in the middle of the night, but Jeff only found out about it when he woke up alone in bed the next morning. He’d walked into the living room to find Abed standing in front of his tv, a stressed look on his face that Jeff’s certain he’s never seen before.

He’d only seen something that approached it once: the day that Troy left Greendale.

And he hasn’t been listening to “Come Sail Away” anymore, so the unfamiliar expression on his face was alarming to say the least.

“Who died?” he’d joked as he made his way to the coffee maker. Abed didn’t answer him until he was settled on the living room couch, and Jeff had felt something heavy beginning to settle on his chest, the same weight that always seems to lie there when Abed gets upset.

It had been a big revelation when he’d first realized that his happiness had come to depend on Abed’s presence in his life. Now it feels as normal as going to work in the mornings, as coming home at night and pouring a glass of scotch.

“You did,” Abed finally said, and Jeff was certain he hadn’t heard him right.

“What?”

“You asked who died. You did. You were supposed to be on that plane.”

Right. The flight he’d impulsively canceled in the middle of the night had crash landed into a lake, killing everyone on board. He’d be lying if he said it hadn’t bothered him at first, the whole “could’ve been dead,” thing. But within about an hour, he was over it and Abed was still looking at him like he was a dead man walking.

“You ok?” he’d asked, completely unaware that his life was about to take an extreme downward turn. He should’ve known, really; Abed was shaking his head that way he does when he gets freaked out by something, like in Jeff’s nightmare crossover into the darkest timeline.

Abed turned to look at him, “No. You were supposed to be on that plane, Jeff.”

Jeff reached out a hand and took his, “But I wasn’t, Abed. I’m here with you, and everything’s fine.”

Abed had only shaken his head violently, and Jeff had sighed in mildly amused frustration.

“Abed-”

“You’ve been Final Destination-ed”

“I’ve been what?”

Abed sat down on the couch with worry painted across his face.

“Final Destination-ed. You cheated death, Jeff.”

Jeff stared at him incredulously until he repeated the same line he’d be repeating every fifteen minutes for the next two and a half weeks:

“You should’ve been on that plane.”

Jeff stood up with his empty coffee mug, placed a gentle kiss on Abed’s forehead before going back into the kitchen, “Well, I wasn’t. And unfortunately, that means I have to go to work, so-”

“No. I already called Craig. I told him you can’t go to work because you might die. He said to stay home as long as you need, but he can’t pay you.”

Abed had cut him off, and Jeff knows now that he should’ve paid more attention to the determination in his lover’s voice. He should’ve known that it wouldn’t end well, that this would be an ongoing thing that would stop being cute incredibly quickly.

Instead, he’d indulged him. Like an idiot.

“Well, in that case,” he’d pecked Abed gently, happy that for a moment, he’d been able to kiss the worry off his face, “I’m going back to bed.”

And he had. Like an idiot.

In his defense, though, he’d known the moment he woke up that he’d made a huge mistake. 

It wasn’t really hard to figure out. Not when all of the knives and forks had been removed from the kitchen drawers, all of his scotch had vanished from the liquor cabinet, and there wasn’t a single razor to be found anywhere in their bathroom.

“Um, Abed!?” he’d shouted from the other side of the apartment, “How long did I sleep?”

He kept noticing things as he moved towards the living room too: covered electrical outlets, blades removed from ceiling fans, the tv missing from its proper stand in the living room, everything that once had a cord removed and tucked away into some hidden closet that Jeff was too lazy to search the apartment for.

Abed met him in the center of the living room, pulled him into a gentle kiss before releasing him and looking down at his watch, “Three hours, forty-five minutes, and thirty six seconds as of about ten seconds ago.”

It took Jeff a moment to remember that he’d asked about his nap.

“What the hell!? How much construction can you do in four hours?”

Abed had cocked his head in that way that was usually cute on days when he hadn’t spent the majority of his time completely rearranging their entire apartment.

“I move fast under pressure,” he’d said as if it was the most obvious thing in the entire world. He’d continued as Jeff’s eyes widened and took everything in, “The others came by earlier. They took some stuff with them that I knew I couldn’t move effectively within the time restraints I had. Oh, and one of Troy’s repairman friends fixed our refrigerator.”

“What was wrong with our refrigerator?”

“Nothing that I could see, but he assured me that there was no chance you’d get electrocuted. He gave the microwave the same treatment.”

Jeff had stared at him as he tried to find the right words.

“I was in danger of getting electrocuted?” is what he finally settled on. Sometimes, he thinks Abed forgets that they don’t share a wavelength the way he and Troy do. 

“You cheated death, Jeff. You should’ve died on that plane. It could come for you at any moment. I’m keeping you safe.”

Something had warmed him then, despite the craziness of it all. The worry on Abed’s face that morning had been genuine, and it seemed so sweet at the time that he’d go to such extremes to preserve Jeff’s life. Especially when it meant unplugging the tv.

“You’re more important,” he’d said, looking up at him with love in his eyes that Jeff had once been certain he’d never see from anyone.

Now, two and half weeks of sexlessness later, it’s conceivably less cute.

Abed had broken it to him that night when Jeff wrapped an arm around his waist and started pressing kisses to the back of his neck. It had been a surprise (to say the least) when Abed had shrugged him off instead of rolling over to peel Jeff’s shirt off.

“Is something wrong?” Jeff asked, blissfully ignorant of what was to come.

Abed had pressed a short, soft kiss to his lips before he’d broken the news,” According to a study done in 1998, about 0.2 in every 100,000 men die during sex every year. The numbers are a little outdated, but we’d better not take the chance.”

Jeff had laughed, “You’re not serious, right?”

He’d been serious. Dead serious. And when Abed commits to a bit, he _commits_.

“Abed, for fuck’s sake, you aren’t going to kill me,” he’d still been smiling, thinking he could convince Abed with a little nudging and kissing. It usually wasn’t hard to fall into rhythm with him; the first time had felt so natural that Jeff had spent countless hours wondering why they hadn’t been doing it since the moment they met.

Instead, Abed had simply rolled over so his back was facing Jeff, muttered, “You’re right. I’m not going to kill you because we aren’t having sex. Goodnight.”

And his two weeks of hell began.

The next couple of days had consisted of a lot of denial, of trying to touch Abed and having his hand pushed away and a determined glare thrown at him. Sometimes, Abed would says something like, “I’m not going to murder you, Jeff.”

It was infuriating.

Especially in moments that were inherently sexual. Jeff had been excited when Abed had insisted that they shower together, but had his hopes and dreams stomped upon when he realized that Abed just wanted to make sure that the shower head didn’t fall on him and knock him unconscious, causing him to drown or bleed out on the floor of the tub.

Every morning, Jeff’s hands found Abed’s hips, only to be shoved away again and again.

And adding to all of the “no sex” nonsense, there were other insane rules too.

For instance, Jeff couldn’t go near the stove without being quickly turned around and sent back towards the living room, Abed lecturing him on the danger of fires the whole way to the couch. They couldn’t order take out because someone could poison him, couldn’t visit friends because they could have a car crash on the five minute drive over.  
And friends couldn’t come over because they could recklessly bring sharp objects with them, or could say something funny at the moment Jeff takes a drink, could cause him to choke without even meaning to.

It becomes tedious quickly, and the loving worry that lives in Abed’s eyes become less effective every day.

Eventually, like a child who hasn’t gotten his way in a few days, Jeff decides to challenge the rules.

It doesn’t go as planned. Ever.

Somehow, Abed always seems to be fifteen steps ahead of him. When he goes to find things with cords, he finds out three days into his search that Abed sent them all home with Annie four days ago. When he calls to place an order at the liquor store, he’s told that his card’s been taken off file. And of course he can’t find it, because Abed’s a magical being and hid it the day he first saw Jeff staring longingly at the empty liquor cabinet. Also, his keys are gone. When he asked, Abed explained that they fall under the apparently massive category of sharp objects.

When Jeff mentions the opportunity that Abed may strangle him in his sleep if he cuddles with him at night, he’s proud to see the surprise come across his boyfriend’s face. Abed’s not someone who’s easy to impress, and Jeff feels a burst of confidence at having thought about something that he didn’t.

But of course, he had.

“It’s fine,” he’d said after a moment of concentration, “You can just be the big spoon from now on. Problem solved.”

Jeff had wanted to smack the stupid smirk off of his stupid face, but admitting that Abed was getting to him was as good as admitting defeat. And also, he kind of likes Abed’s face, even when he’s really mad at it.

And of course, admitting that this bothered him meant admitting that he preferred being the little spoon, which was a whole other problem that he’d prefer to never address.  
It just seemed like Abed always won, and Jeff Winger always wins.

After nearly two weeks of misery, though, he’d almost been willing to take the loss if it meant Abed was willing to fuck him again (or vice versa; it’s not like he has a preference or anything).

He holds steady though, and thank god for it because he thinks he may have finally figured out how to break Abed.

It kind of happens by accident at first, and Jeff probably would have never noticed it at all if Abed hadn’t had the briefest, tiniest slip-up. They step out of the shower together, and for a fraction of a second, Jeff catches the way Abed’s eyes are lingering on his body.

And Jeff kicks himself because how did he not think of this before?

The thing about withholding sex is you don’t get sex either. It hadn’t occurred to him until that moment in the bathroom that Abed may be struggling with this, too. He’s always been good at hiding shit; it took Jeff about a year to realize that Abed was into him, and he can usually tell within the first five minutes.

It wouldn’t be a reach to think that maybe Abed’s just as sexually frustrated as he is, but far better at not showing it.

Jeff, after a whole day of reflecting following the bathroom incident, decides to conduct a few experiments to test his theory.

He starts off subtle, holding Abed’s hand and resting their intertwined fingers on his knee while they watch a movie on Abed’s laptop. They’re about halfway through it when Jeff smirks at him from the opposite side of the couch.

“I’m bored. We should watch Inspector Spacetime.”

Abed pauses the movie and turns his entire body to face Jeff. The excited look on his face is distracting, and Jeff immediately feels the urge to shut this down. But this has become a competition, and he’ll be damned if he’s going to lose.

“You never want to watch that.”

“Maybe I’ve had a change of heart.”

Jeff smiles the charming smile that used to make Annie swoon, meets Abed’s eyes and hopes his own look as pretty and blue as everyone always tells him they do. As subtle as it is, he catches the slight hitch in Abed’s breath, and the smirk spreads across his face before he can stop it.

Abed glares at him for a solid three minutes before he finally decides on a response, careful and thought-out like Abed always is.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to pull, Winger, but it’s not going to work. The only thing you’re doing is giving me an excuse to watch my favorite show, and don’t think I won’t take advantage of this situation in order to use it.”

Jeff shrugs innocently and leans back against the couch while Abed finds his show on Netflix. A few moments into the first episode and Abed’s already scooting closer to him, allowing him to wrap an arm around his shoulders for the first time in months.

He catches the chill that runs through Abed’s body, and leans in close so Abed can feel the heat of his breath against his ear, his neck. He whispers softly against Abed’s skin.

“Explain it to me.”

Abed’s eyes flutter closed for a moment before he’s quickly pushing Jeff away, standing up and slamming the laptop shut.

“Goodnight,” he snaps, walking into their bedroom with purpose and closing the door shut a little too loudly to be subtle.

“Goodnight!” Jeff yells back, satisfied with himself as he lays down on the couch and closes his eyes peacefully for the first time in what’s feels like months.

. . .

Jeff gets up early the next morning to go through Troy’s gigantic mess that he used to call a closet when he still lived in the apartment.

It takes him a while, but he eventually finds the Constable Whatever costume that Troy always wore to those nerd conventions with Abed. It’s a tight fit, but the black top’s sleeves display the muscles of his shoulders beautifully, and he wonders briefly why he’s never indulged Abed in this fantasy before.

Then he remembers the whole British accent thing, and he knows why.

He waits until he’s sure Abed’s settled on the couch before he comes out of the room, and the flush that rises to his cheeks almost immediately is beautiful, stunning after everything Jeff’s been through over the past few weeks.

“Holy fuck,” Abed whispers under his breath, but Jeff pretends he doesn’t hear him and celebrates in silence. He sits down quietly beside him, acting as if it’s a regular morning and he does this everyday.

They make it through about three episodes of Abed’s show before he says a word.

“This isn’t going to work.”

The look on his face can only be described as fiercely determined, and Jeff knows that Abed’s stubborn but he’s beginning to think that this might manage to outweigh his concern for Jeff’s life. He takes Abed’s hand in his, lets out a quiet breath that he knows Abed hears.

“Really? Because you’ve been sporting a huge boner for about forty-five minutes now, and I’d be more than happy to help you out with it.”

Abed grits his teeth, and Jeff’s pretty sure he’s never seen him this openly agitated.

“I’m good, thanks.”

Jeff lets a small laugh escape his lips before he leans in close, his thigh pressing against Abed’s and his lips ghosting over his neck, “Are you sure? The Constable wants to spread his legs for his Inspector-”

Abed quickly stands up and shoves him off, “Shut up, Jeff!”

His face is blushing red and his eyes are wide, his dick tenting the tight jeans that Jeff’s so used to tugging off of him.

Jeff’s getting to him and it’s beautiful. Even if he had to wear this stupid costume, it was worth it to see the pained expression on Abed’s face, the want that resides there now as he undresses Jeff with his eyes.

He stands and walks towards Abed, a similar want clouding his eyes, “Fuck me, Inspector. Fuck me so hard that I don’t even know where I am, who I am.”

Jeff takes a step closer to him, cups Abed’s face in his hand and leans in close.

“When I am-”

And then Abed’s pulling him into a bruising kiss, desperate and full of want and he’s _won_. Abed’s tongue is pressing into his mouth and he’s finally, actually _won_ and why the hell is Abed pulling away?

“Abed,” he moans, and the wall comes back up as quickly as it had gone down, the fantasy broken. Abed forces a blank expression onto his face, and Jeff feels his heart sink at the realization that he’s blown it.

“I shouldn’t have kissed you. You should’ve died on that plane. You can’t cheat death, Jeff!”

He storms off into their bedroom again, and Jeff’s horny with no place to go, _again_.

“Are we really going to take three steps back!?” he shouts, hoping Abed hasn’t put on headphones to drown him out yet, “Are we going to do this forever?”

He doesn’t get an answer, and he slumps down against their couch, helplessly defeated.

. . .

He’d gotten so damn close, and he’d be doing himself and all the men of the world an injustice if he didn’t persevere now, no matter how much it feels like Abed’s never going to have sex with him again. Somehow this has become more important than there being no alcohol in sight, and also the subsequent loss of forks and knives.

He’s already put all of his best offers on the table, so he goes back to the subtle things: gentle presses of their thighs together, walking around in their apartment in nothing but his underwear, asking questions about Abed’s stupid show, pulling him into embraces that last too long with barely any fabric to create distance between their bodies.

He’s laying in bed, trying to focus on reading a book and admitting to himself that he’s going to have to do something even more drastic to get Abed’s attention again, when Abed comes into their room with his eyes blown and focused solely on Jeff.

“Listen to me very carefully,” Abed starts.

Jeff puts his book down and sits up on the bed.

“We are going to be careful and I am not going to kill you because that would be bad. You are going to bottom and I’m going to do all the work because most people who die during sex die doing strenuous things. You are going to lay on your back and do exactly what I say, and the moment you don’t, the deal’s off because you are **not** going to die on me.”

Jeff stares at him, excitement rising in his chest as Abed starts moving towards the bed and pulling his shirt off. He waits until Abed’s undressed other than his underwear to make a move, and then he carefully lays down on his back on the bed, hears the embarrassing whimper that escapes his throat when Abed climbs on top of him and stares down into his eyes.

“Deal?” he asks, already breathless with want.

Jeff nods and sighs in relief when Abed’s hands start pushing up underneath his shirt, over skin that hasn’t been touched like this in weeks. Every place Abed’s fingers ghost over causes Jeff to release another involuntary moan, and by about the fifth time Abed’s thumb brushes over his nipple, he’s not even trying to hide it anymore.

“Fuck, Abed.”

Abed leans down to kiss him, whispers against his mouth, “God, you look amazing tonight.”

The praise warms Jeff the same way it always does, and he’s still thinking about it when Abed slides his sweatpants from his body gently. He lets a hand brush over the bulge in Jeff’s underwear before he’s tugging them down, too.

He parts Jeff’s legs, kisses up the insides of his thighs and back down again before taking the lube from their nightstand, smearing it over his dick before his fingers breach Jeff as slowly as they had the first time they’d done this.

He vaguely remembers how terrified he’d been, how Abed had shushed him and calmed down as his fingers moved inside Jeff’s body. It had hurt at first, but not too much, and Abed had gone so slowly that Jeff barely focused on the pain at all.

It almost feels like that now when Abed pushes in, like the first time he’d known how wonderful it felt to have Abed inside him. He goes slow, pressing inside of Jeff passionately and pulling desperate moans from his lips, his hand cupping Jeff’s face and his movements long and languid. One look in his eyes is enough to remind Jeff how much Abed loves him, _truly loves him_ , and the thrusts quickly become heated as Abed finds a steady pace.

He speeds up, continues to do so as Jeff begs and keens and writhes beneath him, and it’s going so perfectly that Jeff should have known that something was going to go wrong. It’s everything Jeff’s been wanting for weeks, Abed thrusting inside of him with desperate, undeniable want. The way Jeff’s helpless beneath him, trusting Abed completely with his body as he stretches out under him. 

And Abed’s moving faster and rougher than Jeff’s ever seen him move, chasing the high of being inside him, and everything’s wonderful as they move against each other until suddenly, the back of Jeff’s head is banging violently against one of the metal bars that makes up their headboard.

The passion and lust in Abed’s eyes turns to horrified terror within moments, and he’s scrambling to get off of Jeff as quickly as possible, leaving his cock on edge as Jeff thrusts desperately into the air, chasing an orgasm that isn’t coming.

And then he’s angry. Angrier than he wishes he was, than he’s ever been at Abed.

“Fucking hell, Abed!” his voice is louder than he intended it to be, but his body’s protesting every movement and the back of his head is sore and Abed is being ridiculous.  
And then he sees Abed’s face, steadfastly determined, and it ignites a rage inside of him that he didn’t know he had.

“I don’t need you to protect me!”

“Yes, you do! You were supposed to die-”

Jeff slams a fist down on the bed, “No one was supposed to die on any planes! It’s a fucking movie, Abed! Nobody gets Final Destination-ed, nobody has premonitions about planes crashing, death doesn’t come for people because they cheated it! So what the actual fuck are you so worried about!?”

“I can’t lose you, too!”

Jeff knows that Abed didn’t mean to say it the moment it leaves his mouth.

He looks at him, scared of what he might find, and feels guilt settling in at the tears prickling in Abed’s eyes and at the hand covering his mouth.

Silence hangs between them for a moment before Abed’s sitting on the end of the bed and Jeff’s crawling towards him, reaching out a hand and laying it gently on his shoulder.  
“You’re not going to lose me,” he whispers, because talking any louder would feel wrong, “you’re never going to _lose_ me.”

Abed shakes his head.

“Sometimes you think that people are going to be there forever and then they just leave. Whether they die or they sail away on a boat to explore the world, one day they’re here and the next they’re just _gone_ , and you don’t know what to do because it’s too late to do anything to fix it.”

Abed’s voice trembles as the words rapidly leave his mouth and there are quiet tears falling down his face, and Jeff puts an arm around him from behind and leans forward so his chest is pressed against Abed’s back. There’s something calming about the way their skin feels when it’s touching like this, vulnerable but not in the way that makes Jeff want to scream into his pillow at night.

“I’m never going to leave you, Abed. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Silence lingers between them for a moment, and Jeff adds on in a quiet whisper, “as long as you’ll have me.”

Abed nods as Jeff presses a kiss to his temple, turns around in Jeff’s arms and wraps his arms around his neck, pulling him into the best kind of embrace.

There’s nothing quite like hugging after a fight.

“Please, don’t leave.”

Jeff kisses Abed’s shoulder, tastes the sweat on his skin, “Never.”

It’s a promise, even when the words aren’t said. Jeff is surprised when it doesn’t scare him, when promising to never leave Abed feels like something he’s known all along, that it isn’t a revelation he’s having right now, in this moment. He was never going to leave Abed. Ever. He’d just never said the words out loud before.

They bring him a sort of peace that he wouldn’t believe he was capable of feeling if he wasn’t the one feeling it.

Jeff kisses him, then smiles against his lips.

“So, can I please be un-Final Destination-ed now? Banging my head against metal didn’t even give me a concussion, so I think I’ve proven to be pretty durable on the ‘not dying’ front.”

Abed pulls him into a kiss, presses his tongue into Jeff’s mouth and pushes him down onto his back. He lays beneath him, lets Abed’s hands explore his body for a few moments before he pulls away from the kiss, his lips lingering above Jeff’s like they’re sorry there’s space between them at all.

“As long as you promise to be un-Final Destination-ed forever.”

Jeff nods, feels tears pool in his eyes when Abed’s lips meet his again, when Abed pushes inside of him and relishes in the moans he draws from Jeff’s throat.

The word love lingers between them, even though neither of them say it out loud or promise it. They both know it’s there, though. It’s there like Jeff’s always going to be there.

Like it’s been there all along.


End file.
